A Greenberg he didn't hate
by PinkLeatherGloves
Summary: One evening Coach Finstock got an unexpected call from Greenberg's sister. The next day he called her back, and after she visited a lacrosse game, things got out of control. - Finstock/OC
1. Chapter 1

**[PHONE CALL]**

"Yes?"

"Is it Coach Finstock?"

"It depends."

"On what?"

"Who are you?"

"Lauren Greenberg. My brother's on your lacrosse team."

"Oh, you're Greenberg's sister."

"Yes, that's exactly what I said."

"Sure. What can I help you with?"

"I just wanted to let you know that I've just deleted every single contact from my brother's phone, so if you want to make sure he can't get your number from his teammates, this is your time to warn them."

"You deleted... why would you do that?"

"He was an idiot and deserved it."

"I can't argue with that."

"You're a legend, Coach, he's always complaining about you and suicide runs, so this is the least I can do."

"Thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome. Bye."

"Hey, can I..."

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**Author's note:** I have no excuse for this one. Don't worry, the story itself won't be a bunch of conversations.


	2. Chapter 2

**[You don't remember]**

He had no idea why, but Bobby undeniably felt the need to call Greenberg. Not _that_ Greenberg - his sister, the girl who had called him the night before after deleting every single number from her brother's phone. Including his which was one of the best things that had happened to him lately. Maybe it was the lack of social life he had and that was the reason why he wanted to talk to her again, but that little thought in the back of his head didn't leave him alone.

Letting out a sigh, Bobby put the glass of Jack on the coffee table as he grabbed his phone and lied across the couch. The number was still there in the log, so he took a deep breath and dialed. It took her a few seconds to answer but she did. "Hi, it's Bobby Finstock," he started hesitantly and, right after she said something in return, he went on. "Are you busy now?"

"Um, not really," she replied after a short pause. "Why did you call?"

Yes, why on earth did he call her? How could he possibly answer this normally easy question even he didn't know the answer for? In the end, probably thanks to the effect of the alcohol, he opened his mouth and started talking without using his brain. "I was just wondering, you know, that are you seriously Greenberg's sister?"

Smooth, he mouthed as he put his palm over his head.

"I am."

"Older or younger?" he asked eagerly, trying to imagine that idiot with his sister.

What could that even be like? Well, not only for her but his entire family. Something was definitely wrong with that kid. At the thought of Greenberg Bobby couldn't help but sit back up to drink out the rest of his whiskey.

"Older."

"Then I don't even know you, right?"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line before she cleared her throat and said, "I only graduated two years ago. Economy class and others," she added with a soft laugh, "had them all."

Bobby bit his lower lip and rubbed his face with his palm. He seriously didn't remember her, that one Greenberg who seemed sane. This wasn't simply awkward, it felt terrible. "Yeah, sure, sorry," he lied.

"You don't remember."

"No, I do," he replied, maybe too quickly. "Okay, I don't."

"At least you finally admitted it. So, why did you call me?"

"I don't know." She didn't say anything and he couldn't blame her for that. His gaze turned to the screen of the still muted television on which he had been watching a stand-up show, and said, "I mean, I just wanted to talk to you and yes, I know it sounds weird," he added just to make sure she didn't get the wrong idea.

"It's not weird, _Coach_." Lauren carefully emphasized the last word but he had no idea why. "There are an awful lot of us who would like to know what you're like outside school."

That was new; he hadn't really thought about things like this, and now that she brought it up, he was getting interested. So his students were interested in him, his private life - he had definitely not expected it. "And why are they so interested?"

"You're not my teacher anymore, but I still don't think I should tell you, because I really don't want you to think I'm mean or something."

"I won't think that, I swear."

"Fine. It's just that you seem to be... um... so you look like as if you were high most of the time. And you love to recycle the Independence Day speech over and over again when it comes to the lacrosse team."

"That's all?"

"No, but honestly, I don't want to talk about that particular reason."

"Why not?"

She remained silent for a long seconds and he was wondering if she was still there at all. But before he could ask her, Lauren spoke up. "Is it an interrogation?"

"No, I'm just curious."

There it was again, that annoying little pause. "Are you high?" she asked. He wasn't there, he didn't even know what she looked like, but he could imagine the look on her face now.

"No."

"Drunk?"

"Define drunk."

"So you're drunk," Lauren stated.

"Not completely drunk," he pointed out while he filled his glass again. "I've only drank one glass of Jack... or two. That's almost nothing."

She let out a soft chuckle before she said, "Maybe you should call it a day and go to sleep."

"I'm fine."

"Oookay."

"I'm serious, Lauren," he tried to convince her as he stood up and walked back and forth in the living room. "Anyway, don't you want to meet me tonight? I'm kinda bored and have nothing better to do."

Lauren let out a long sigh and he didn't like that sound of it. "That's not a good idea," she said.

"Why not?"

"Look, as much as I find this conversation hilarious..."

"Okay, I get it," Bobby interrupted her, trying not to sound too disappointed.

"Sorry."

"No problem. Bye."

He was an idiot. Looking down at the coffee table with his phone in hand, Bobby realized that glass of Jack sure as hell wasn't enough for that night. How could he even think about the possibility of Lauren wanting to meet him? She had only called him because she deleted his number from Greenberg's phone, and only answered because she didn't know it was him. He didn't know why he wanted to meet her though.

Damn, he didn't even remember her.

But still, he really wanted to meet the normal Greenberg girl in person.

But he couldn't keep asking her until she said yes because that would be harassment.

Bobby Finstock had no idea what to do. Then he remembered what he was teaching in Economics class about the Stock Market: risk and reward, or the possibility of not playing at all.

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**Author's note:** Thank you all for the reviews. Seriously. The updates are going to take some time since I'm working on a werewolf!Stiles fic (called _I Surrender My Heart_) as well and there's an original story, so I'm really, really sorry.


	3. Chapter 3

**[I know what I said]**

At this moment, his lacrosse team sucked. Especially Greenberg, so probably sending Bilinski or Stilinski or whatever his name was on the field instead of him during the game would be a good idea. Better than letting that idiot ruin even the chance of winning anyway. After writing a reminder for himself, Bobby put down his beloved pen on the desk and leaned back in the chair.

Sometimes he wondered what he had done in his previous life to deserve this but usually the next thing that came to his mind was the long list of crazy things that happened in Beacon Hills. About these, he didn't even want to know. Ignorance is bliss, he always reminded himself and his life was a little bit more peaceful this way.

"You know, you don't seem too confident about the team."

His gaze turned to the source of the familiar voice. The young girl's dark blond hair was pulled into a messy bun, her brown eyes set on him as she leant against the doorframe with her hands in the pockets of her jeans. He didn't recognize the visitor; possibly she was just one the many students whose names he didn't even want to learn. Shrugging, he turned back to the notes in front of him. "Because I'm not, but it's none of your business. Go to class."

"If I were a student, I would, but I'm not," she replied casually as she sat on the chair across from him. "Not to mention it's five in the afternoon, school's over. And, if I remember correctly, you were the one who wanted to meet me."

"I didn't," Bobby started, but stopped when he realized what she meant. "Wait, Lauren?"

The young woman let out a cheerful laugh as she clapped her hands. "Hurray, he figured it out alone!"

"I thought you didn't want to meet me."

She shrugged at first then said, "Not when you're halfway to be drunk."

As he looked at her, Bobby noticed that this statement wasn't meant to be rude. Lauren simply pointed out something he had to know: she wanted to meet him but under different circumstances. "I wasn't planning on getting drunk," he informed the girl.

"Yeah, sure you weren't," she replied with a roll of her eyes.

"You don't believe me?"

"No, I don't," Lauren stated with a wide smile.

"Alright," he began as he stood up and walked around the desk, resting his hips against the edge with his arms folded over his chest. "Why are you here?"

Lauren carefully turned the chair so she was now facing him. "Well, I was just wondering if you had any plans for tonight." Her long fingers were nervously tracing her thighs as she spoke, and it didn't matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep his eyes off her legs and hands. "More specifically if you were free after the game," she added, finally looking up at him.

"I'm free," Bobby replied without the merest hint of hesitation in his voice.

"Perfect. So how's my dear brother?"

"Don't," he said seriously as he was about to walk back behind his desk. Before he could even take a step away from her, Lauren reached for his hand and gently pulled him back. Now he was standing right in front of her, too close for his liking, but the way this girl looked up at him made him gulp. It wasn't right. Not because of her brother, but because she was younger and an ex-student of his.

"Why?" she asked innocently, still not letting go of his hand. "Come on, I know how you feel about him. I mean, he's an idiot."

Bringing up her brother once again snapped him back to reality. Of course, it was all about him. The entire problem about how she's looking at him was nothing more but his vivid imagination playing some stupid game with him. "Exactly!" he said, hoping this word is enough to explain everything about the younger Greenberg, while he pulled away his hand.

At the same time, Lauren went on as if nothing had happened. "How did he get into the lacrosse team anyway?"

Bobby only shrugged at this. "I don't know."

"But... Aren't you the one who's supposed to make these decisions?"

"I know! This is why he won't play the next time, Stilinski will take his place."

Her eyes widened in surprise and her lips formed a small smile within a second. "Stiles? Awesome, I like that kid."

He didn't even remember her face and name from the time when she had been his student, but Lauren remembered this guy who was a few years younger than her. Clearing his throat he eventually managed to speak up, asking her to meet him on the lacrosse field after the game because now he had to finish a few things before meeting the boys. She nodded and left, leaving him all alone in the office. The silence was only broken when his phone vibrated on the edge of the desk.

It was a text from Lauren: _Good luck_.

That's it. Two simple words, but it was still unbelievable. The biggest question was whether she had she been flirting with him or not? And why did communicating with women seemed like a huge challenge all of sudden? One question followed another, and Bobby Finstock felt like losing his mind - this time for real.

The game... Well, it was insane and he was happy when it was finally getting close to the very end. Fifty-eight seconds. He started to count the seconds, feeling a tight knot forming in his stomach at the thought of the upcoming meeting with the girl. Thirty-four seconds. What was she even planning? If he remembered correctly, there was a purple shirt in his office just in case, something semi-casual he would maybe need that night. Nineteen seconds. He couldn't do it, there was n-

"Part of me believed it will be a smaller disaster," the familiar female voice whispered right into his ear as she steadied herself by putting a hand on his shoulder and leant down to him. Bobby tore his gaze away from the field for a second to look at her. "Nice job."

"I thought you were arriving later," he said quickly.

They both turned back to the game. Five seconds. Four. Three. Two. One. Then it was over. He reacted out of a habit, but his mind was focusing on the girl standing behind him, the one with the wicked smile and warm lips that had been brushing his earlobes a few seconds before.

She was definitely flirting with him.

* * *

**Author's note:** I guess you all know what's next - thanks for the reviews and everything. Now the news. The story's rating might be changed to M. Not because of any kind of explicit scene but... um... yeah, I think Coach has a pretty dirty mind sometimes. (From an interview with Orny Adams where he's talking about how he believes Coach has a "wild life" outside school. "_He's got a wild secret life that I can't disclose yet, but it's wild. I think it'd be a great storyline. You know what we haven't seen yet is Coach in love._")


	4. Chapter 4

**[Tickling]**

The lacrosse field was empty and eerily quiet by the time he returned. Bobby saw the girl sitting in the grass on the other side of the field, while the screen of her phone lit her face in the dark. He stopped and spent a few minutes watching her. Maybe he should turn around and walk away, sending her a message that he had to take care of something. _Let's be honest_, he thought, _she's too young_. _Probably she can't even drink alcohol yet._ But he liked her and wanted to see how far this thing could go between them. After all, Lauren was gorgeous with a good sense of humor, and thanks to those idiots he taught, he hadn't had much notion to go out and get a girlfriend lately.

And she was young. Who wouldn't want such a young girl in their bed? Again, he was back to her age. This time, though, he had to admit it was a pro instead of a contra in the argument he was having with himself. So it was finally settled: her age didn't matter and he would give it a try tonight. Bobby promised himself not to push her but, and this was very important, if she was the one insisting something more, he wouldn't say no. Definitely wouldn't. He would rather handcuff or tie himself to his bed than saying no to her.

Trying to bite back the goofy smile that probably crept on his face by now, Bobby stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dark blue jeans and finally walked over to her. One step at a time, there was no reason to rush. Lauren looked up and smiled at him as she put away her phone. "So what's the plan?" he asked her when he stopped.

He gulped.

Only now that he was standing right in front of her did he notice she was kneeling, resting her body's weight on her heels. Moments like this always reminded him that deep inside he was just as perverted as most men in the world - maybe even worse. She was kneeling there, looking up at him with those big brown eyes, her lips shining in the pale moonlight from the pink lip gloss she had put on shortly before he left. Lauren smiled at him as she rose, still on her knees but closer to where he really, really wanted her to be. He would go to Hell after his death, he knew it, but he couldn't just tune out the dirty side of his mind.

"I don't really have a plan," she replied as she stood up and dusted off her jeans. "If you have an idea, go ahead and say it."

Let's get drunk, why don't you get back on your knees, do you want to come over to my place; these were the only ideas he had. Pathetic, he knew. "Oh, trust me, you don't want to hear that," he replied in the end with a smirk.

"Now I want to hear it."

He couldn't help but laugh at this. "No."

"Come on, Coach!" she pleaded with her hands folded behind her back.

"God, call me Bobby, okay?" The entire lacrosse team called him that and he didn't need someone calling him 'Coach' outside school as well. Now he wasn't a teacher or a coach, he was just a man who wanted to have a good time after a stressful lacrosse game with this girl.

"Nah," Lauren replied with a devilish smile, "not yet."

Yet. _Yet_. This girl was killing him. "Yet? What does that even mean?"

There it was again, the little smirk that was driving him insane. He had seen it before the game and there was something about it he couldn't quite place. She stepped closer to him, humming quietly as her fingers found the hem of his purple shirt and gently tugged it. "You have to figure it out alone."

"Tell me."

"No."

It was torture. There was no other name to call what she was doing to him with that '_look at me I'm so cute and innocent_' look on her face. He wanted to know what she meant, if she felt the same way so his dirty and inappropriate thoughts wouldn't be so dirty and inappropriate anymore. There had to be a way to get it out of her. Suicide laps could work, but he didn't want to make her run on the dark field, let alone while she was wearing those high heels he wanted to see on her when she was wearing nothing else but those damn shoes. Shaking his head to push these thoughts aside, he asked, "Are you ticklish?"

Lauren looked up at him with raised eyebrows. Meanwhile her fingers accidentally touched the skin on his side and his body tensed. Maybe it wasn't an accident and this little witch was trying to push him over the edge. "Um, no?" she asked innocently.

"So you are."

"I'm not," she said defiantly.

He knew how to detect if someone was lying to him and she wasn't telling the truth now. Lauren was scared. She was ticklish therefore he had just found the perfect method to get whatever he wanted to get out of her. Her eyes widened, but the little smile on her lips proved even though she didn't like it, she was looking forward to whatever he was planning to do. It was a challenge. This girl was challenging him and, deep inside, he believed she wanted him to touch her even while being tickled just as much as he was yearning for this contact as well. Taking a deep breath, Bobby rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and took a step closer to her.

Lauren tilted her head as she took a step back. "What are you doing?"

"Figuring out what you meant."

"You wouldn't dare." He smiled at her the same way he always smiled at those kids that annoyed him, especially her little brother who was usually his number one target. Even though she tried, her shoes didn't make it easy for her to run on the grass, so it didn't take him much time to catch her and start tickling her stomach. Lauren laughed hysterically while she tried to catch her breath and begged him to stop. Bobby liked to hear her beg and didn't stop until the girl finally said, "Fine, I'll tell you!"

With a victorious smile Bobby let her go, but she didn't go away. She stayed really close to him, her brown eyes never leaving his as she stood on her toes again and again with her hands behind her back. "I'm listening, Lauren," he said quietly.

But she didn't say anything, only looked around the field. It was empty, everyone left after the game and it was now only the two of them. Just when he thought she wouldn't answer, Lauren stood on her toes again and kissed him, her hands on his hips to steady herself. "See? I'll start calling you Bobby once you gave me a really good reason to do so."

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**Author's note:** Yeah, you know what's next - thanks for the reviews and all. I'm sorry the chapters aren't long, but I want to keep this one scene/situation per chapter thing.


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